


be in my heart.

by thequeenofokay



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-03-31 17:15:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3986299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequeenofokay/pseuds/thequeenofokay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>+ collection of prompt fics + drabbles originally posted on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. kara/grant

**Author's Note:**

> \+ kara/grant, for the prompt **"is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?"**. which i twisted slightly. set post s2 finale.

She wakes slowly – dragging herself back to consciousness is an almost impossible effort, but she pushes through. Her head feels like it’s full of lead, and her body is on _fire_.

She lets out a tiny groan and opens her eyes.

She hears movement, and Grant’s there, by the bed. There’s something far past worry in his face, something that she doesn’t quite understand and definitely doesn’t like.

‘What happened?’ she asks. ‘Is there a reason I’m naked in our bed?’

He looks pained. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘I had to – to get to the wounds. Not that you’re completely… naked.’

Technically, that’s true. She’s got on a pair of tiny pyjama shorts, and her chest is heavily bandaged.

Her fingers move to touch them, and she lets out a little ‘oh’, looking up at him as memories of how she ended up this way flood back.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says again, and she thinks she hears his voice crack. She can see the guilt weighing on him, thick and heavy. He almost reaches out to take her hand, but then seems to think better of it.

She wants to be able to tell him it doesn’t matter. She wants to be able to easily smile and reassure him that everything’s okay. But she can’t. Not quite yet.

‘How am I not dead?’ she asks.

He shrugs. He’s still staring at her like she’s going to fall apart at any second. ‘I’m resourceful,’ he says. ‘I know people. They patched you up.’

‘Thanks,’ she says.

‘Don’t.’ He shakes his head. ‘Don’t, this is my fault.’

She tries to move, but pain immediately shoots through her body and she gives up, leaning back into her pillows. She reaches out a hand to him and he takes it, agonisingly gently.

‘Hey,’ she says. ‘I’m not going to say I’m not shaken, okay? But we’re going to get through this.’ She gives him a defiant sort of look, daring him to challenge her. ‘Together.’

He takes a moment, but he nods. ‘Together,’ he agrees.

‘Good.’ She smiles. ‘Maybe, though, it would be an idea to get away from Shield and our revenge. They fucked us over, but it’s too much effort.’

She thinks she can see him brighten a little. ‘We’ll need to find a new house,’ he says.

She feels a little wave of relief at his instant agreement. ‘Definitely,’ she says. She squeezes his hand. ‘It’ll be fun.’


	2. jemma/grant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ biospecialist + coffeeshop au

Skye taps Jemma aggressively on the shoulder. Jemma’s not sure if Skye thinks she’s being sly. Because she’s not. She’s definitely not.

‘He’s here,’ Skye hisses. Loudly.

Jemma rolls her eyes. This is _not_  high school. She’s not going to stop what she’s doing and stare every time a regular customer who she is, yes, maybe attracted to comes in.

That doesn’t stop Skye from having to take a sudden emergency break, leaving Jemma alone to man the till in the quiet coffee shop.

‘Grant,’ she says, looking up at her customer and pretending he doesn’t look like he knows _exactly_  what just happened. ‘Just the usual?’

Grant nods. Jemma’s never learned his surname. ‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Thanks.’

He looks a little more beaten up than usual today. Jemma has never asked what it is that gets him that way. He’s been coming in most weeks for a few months, now, and she’s never asked much at all about him.

She hands over the drink and muffin with a smile. She’s about to let it slide – it’s none of her business, really. She shouldn’t pry. But she has to.

‘Are you okay?’ she asks. ‘You look a little… under the weather.’

He smiles, tight and tired. ‘Thanks for the coffee,’ he says.


	3. raina/grant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ rainward + "i thought you were dead"
> 
> \+ did raina change in front of grant is 1.18 though?? i must know.

It’s been maybe twenty-four hours since the word came round the Fridge that Hydra’s risen. Raina’s heard celebration amongst the other inmates – they think Hydra will free them. Maybe Raina should be celebrating too. Soon, hopefully, she’ll be free again.

It’s hard to celebrate when she has no idea if Grant made it out. She hasn’t seen him since his team captured her, and she has no idea if he’s okay.

Her fingers shake slightly as she finishes another delicate origami flower. She closes her eyes for a second, attempting to calm herself. She’s been apart from him before, since they were first thrown together by Garrett in the woods. But there’s something different about this time. There’s a feeling of finality and of danger that she can’t shake.

This time, everything is going to change.

She’s on her feet the second she hears gunfire. She almost doesn’t want to let herself hope that he’s come for her, because she’s not sure she’ll be able to stand the disappointment—

She close to throws herself at him the second he opens the door. His arms tighten around her immediately.

‘I thought you were _dead_ ,’ she whispers, unable to stop herself.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says, ‘I’m so sorry I let them take you. I should have stopped them.’

She shifts back so she can look at him, one hand moving to his jaw. ‘You did what you had to,’ she says. ‘We all have to make sacrifices.’

Something flashes through his eyes, dark and angry. He catches her hand, holding slightly too tight. ‘I’d never sacrifice you for _anything_ ,’ he says. ‘You know that.’

There’s something unspoken there—they are more loyal to each other than they could ever be to Hydra, Shield, Centipede or even Garrett. He is hers to the end.

She kisses him, presses herself against him, and god, she’s missed him so _much_. He finally breaks away, giving her a regretful look.

‘I imagine there’s a time pressure,’ she says.

He almost smiles, in that hard, twisted way she loves. ‘I have something for you,’ he says. He swings his bag off shoulder and reaches inside. He hands over a box—tied with a _bow_ —and she opens it gently.

She picks out the flower dress, breaking into a smile. ‘Did you buy this for me?’ she asks.

He moves closer, so he can wrap an arm around her waist again. ‘Anything for you.’

‘Do I have time to change now?’ she asks, raising an eyebrow.

He reaches across to push the door closed. There’s still the sounds of gunfire and fighting in the distance. ‘I’m sure we can make time,’ he says.


	4. every now and then the stars align // grant centric

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ soulmates au. multishippy.
> 
> \+ this was written in two parts--the first in december after 2x10 had happened, and the second post the s2 finale.
> 
> \+ title from "lucky ones" by lana del rey

He is born with one mark — more than his brother has. It’s _serving dr whitehall_ in a scrawl across his ribs.

Within a year, he has two more. First is _damn, this is like the playboy jet_ in small, neat all caps. Then is, in beautiful cursive just below his collarbone, _what are you doing here?_

It is another few years before _fitz_ appears on one wrist, and _simmons_ not much later on the other.

Last is boldest. Last is blackest and darkest and he knows it’s got to be important. Last is _hey, what up?_ It curves up his chest, in a line that cuts right across his heart in a messy scribble that he’s always thought is kind of cute.

Christian says it makes him weak. To have so many. Grant doesn’t know if he’s jealous or right. By the time he’s fifteen he’s thinking  _right_ . He pities the people who are supposed to love him.

Garrett tells him he gives his heart out too easily. That he’s soft. ‘Cover them up,’ he says. ‘Specialists can’t afford being identified.’

He never asks if Garrett has any. If he does, he never shows them to Grant.

In thirty years, he meets none of his soulmates. None of the words on written on his body are said to him.

He starts to think it’s a mistake.

It has to be a mistake.

No one could love him, anyway.

He couldn’t love them back.

Then his whole world sort of. Ends.

Garrett assigns him to a new mission. Undercover.

He can do undercover. It isn’t even _necessary_ that he covers up his marks for this one. He does, anyway. They’re a distraction.

He lets his bag drop on the cargo ramp, and the two chattering scientists look up at him. ‘Fitzsimmons?’ he asks.

They exchange a look. He feels like he might have just missed an entire conversation.

‘Fitz,’ says the woman, and she points at her partner.

‘Simmons.’ He points back at her.

_Shit_.

These two are his soulmates?

(It doesn’t matter. He won’t let them compromise his mission. It’s just two little scientists. They’re harmless.)

He goes with Coulson to bring in the Rising Tide girl.

The door to her van slides open and she grins at them, a little sheepishly.

‘Hey,’ she says. ‘What up?’

He stops short, and he thinks the skin above his heart might be on fire, but it might just be his imagination. ‘Fuck,’ he says. ‘It’s you.’

Coulson gives him a look that asks a lot of questions Grant doesn’t want to answer.

He puts a bag over his soulmate’s head.

 

* * *

 

Grant’s learned what they never tell you about soulmates—they mean nothing. They don’t guarantee happiness.

In fact, all they seem to guarantee is pain.

Some of the marks have faded. Skye’s has almost gone completely, and look like white scars over his heart. Simmons’ have faded too, and gone a nasty purple colour, like a bruise. Fitz’s words ached for weeks after Grant dropped the pod in the ocean, but now they’re pale too.

They don’t hurt now. Not physically, anyway. But they haunt him.

Trip’s words, though, have been hurting since San Juan. He didn’t know what it meant, at first. No one ever tells you what happens when a soulmate dies. He didn’t realise until he stumbled across the Shield records of Trip’s death.

Raina’s mark _burns_ on his collarbone. He remembers the moment the pain came, sharp and suffocating, when he knew she was gone.

The pain reminds him of them constantly, trapping him in grief and rendering him unable to move on.

He takes a drink, staring at Kara’s photo on the bar. It does nothing to numb the pain. He understands, now, why her words are on his ribs, right over the scars from where Skye shot him. It’s almost like the universe was trying to be funny.

He remembers tracing his words on her chest, running his thumb over them. He remembers her smiling, whispering “aren’t we lucky?”

He tries not to think about how her mark is almost exactly where he—

Where he shot her. It makes him want to be _sick_ , but he deserves it. And he deserves it that her marks on him hurt so much he can hardly breathe, more than being shot, more than bleeding out on the concrete.

The universe has a really sick sense of humour.

He knows the pain will never go. He wonders if it will kill him, eventually. Maybe you really can die of a broken heart.

He can’t bear to cover the marks up. The men who work for him can know why he’s like this—because of all he’s lost. He might as well be a warning to others. _Don’t let anyone near your heart._ It’ll only hurt you. You’ll only lose them.

They tell you how, once you’ve found a soulmate, it’s hard to be apart from them for a long time. They don’t tell you about how it feels like having a piece of yourself ripped out. They don’t tell you about how you’ll never be at peace again.

He had six soulmates. He’s lost them all.


	5. kara/grant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ kara/grant, for the prompt **"mourn me -- a drabble about one character mourning another character’s death"**. i made myself sad.

Sometimes Kara finds it easiest to separate her life out into Before Brainwashing and After Brainwashing. Before Brainwashing is clear cut—she was a loyal Shield agent, committed and dedicated.

After had been simple too.

After had been Grant. After had been revenge on Shield, it had been closure and then moving on, as far from Shield as she could get. But it had always involved Grant. It had been their house, the life they would have together.

It’s so hard to imagine now that he’s gone.

She’s spent too much time over the last week just sitting in front of his grave, but Grant has always been her home. She has nowhere else to go.

‘I miss you,’ she says. It’s too much to consider that he can’t hear her. Her voice is clearer that it was when she screamed herself hoarse after May put four bullets in his chest in Spain, or when she choked with tears every time she tried to speak after they buried him.

He didn’t get a funeral. Not really, because Kara was the only one there. She’d been hit by the horror of the whole thing—the crushing, bloody reality that, in the end, she was the only one who cared. She was the only one left.

He was not the only one who cared for her. Sometimes it felt like it. Sometimes it felt like the only world left was each other. But somewhere out there, she has a family. Soon, she’ll find them again.

First, she has something to do: she’s going to destroy Shield.

Sitting at his grave, at the freshly dug earth, it seems like the logical course of action. He’d have burned the world to the ground for her. She will burn Shield for him. She has to give him that much, at least, in return for everything that he did for her.

A part of her knows it will be dangerous. Shield is brutal. It doesn’t matter, though. For now, their end is her purpose. She can’t imagine a world in which both she and Shied exist.

Maybe after, if she lives, she’ll try and have the life she was supposed to have with Grant. She’ll get the dog, buy the house, maybe go back to university, find the right job for her.

All without him. It feels so _wrong_.

She chews on her lip. ‘Grant,’ she says, and she can hear her voice wavering. There’s tears welling up in her eyes again, and it feels like a miracle that she’s got any tears _left,_ but she doesn’t wipe them away. ‘Please, promise you’ll stay with me.’

She waits for a moment, dabbing at her damp cheeks with her sleeve. She’s not sure what she’s waiting for, exactly. Maybe a sign.

Maybe she imagines the wind picking up a little, but it’ll do.

She stands up. ‘Goodbye, Grant,’ she says.


	6. raina/grant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ raina/grant + invite me
> 
> \+ this is such a random ficlet lmao sorry.

Raina’s been sitting on the steps outside his building for the last five minutes, like she thinks he can’t see her out his kitchen window. He can see her fur coat, which doesn’t mean it’s cold. Just that Raina has  _plans_ .

He takes the stairs down to her, opens the front door.

She turns. Strings of pearls clatter together. She’s wearing the red dress he bought her four years ago, before he broke her out of prison.

‘I thought you were giving up smoking,’ he says. Raina has more secrets that Grant could ever count. Her stress smoking is one of the few she keeps badly. (It’s been less recently, and he hopes, quietly, that means she’s less stressed.)

‘I don’t smoke,’ she says. She’s crushing a cigarette under the sole of her shoe. ‘I’ve never smoked. It’s terrible for your lungs.’

‘Of course,’ he says. He sits beside her on the step.

‘And I am trying to quit,’ she says. She gives him a little frown.

‘I know,’ he says. ‘So, are you coming inside?’

She hums. ‘No. We’re going out.’

‘Oh?’ Grant smiles. He tried to get out of the game—the whole “criminal” thing—years ago. He realised that’s not possible when your fiancé is Raina.

‘We’re going to rob a museum,’ she says, like it’s nothing.

‘Are we?’ Grant asks. ‘I thought we could have a quiet night in, maybe watch a movie.’

She pouts. ‘Look,’ she says, gesturing to herself. ‘I’m dressed nice. We’re going to rob a museum. They’re having a benefit, you can wear a suit. It’ll be fun.’

Grant sighs, and Raina prods him in the arm. ‘Please,’ she whines. ‘I’ve been planning this since _yesterday_.’

‘Is that why I didn’t see you?’ he asks.

‘No.’ She smirks. ‘Sorry. I got distracted.’

Grant raises an eyebrow, and Raina break into one of her stunning, beautiful smiles. ‘Don’t look so suspicious,’ she says. ‘It wasn’t _that_ illegal.’

‘I believe you,’ he says.

‘So.’ Raina draws the word out and shoves him gently in the shoulder. ‘Museum. Roman antiquities. We can give them back afterwards.’

Grant kisses her. Long and deep. ‘Or,’ he tries. ‘We go upstairs.’

Raina lets out a long suffering sort of sigh. ‘This better be worth it.’

‘It will be,’ Grant says.

‘And we’re still going to rob that museum,’ she says. ‘You’re not getting out of it. We can do it next week instead.’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Good.’ Raina smiles, satisfied, and gives him another kiss before she gets to her feet.

**Author's Note:**

> \+ find me on [tumblr](http://karapalamas.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/karapalamas) if you wanna prompt me or just wanna see me cry about all my dead otps.


End file.
